


Home Run

by GoodShipsDontSink, JoMarchisgay



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Lesbian AU, Softball, cis girls au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-04-24 09:06:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14352348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodShipsDontSink/pseuds/GoodShipsDontSink, https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoMarchisgay/pseuds/JoMarchisgay
Summary: Step.  Swing.  Release.  This was a motion that Katya had done a million times, so why was her hand sweaty?  Trixie finally takes her place at the plate, and Katya stares her down from the pitching mound, trying to intimidate, and pointedly not looking at her curves.  Trixie meets her gaze, and Katya watches as her eyes go wide for a second, before narrowing, and her face upturns to a small smirk.  And she fucking winks.  What the hell?  Katya’s now frustrated, but in the back of her mind, she registers Coach Michelle yelling, ‘C’mon Red, give’r it”. She wants to yell back that she's trying but she concentrates on the game instead. Her chances at winning gold this year we're not going to be ruined by Dolly fucking Parton.





	1. Sore loser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Step. Swing. Release. This was a motion that Katya had done a million times, so why was her hand sweaty? Trixie finally takes her place at the plate, and Katya stares her down from the pitching mound, trying to intimidate, and pointedly not looking at her curves. Trixie meets her gaze, and Katya watches as her eyes go wide for a second, before narrowing, and her face upturns to a small smirk. And she fucking winks. What the hell? Katya’s now frustrated, but in the back of her mind, she registers Coach Michelle yelling, ‘C’mon Red, give’r it”. She wants to yell back that she's trying but she concentrates on the game instead. Her chances at winning gold this year we're not going to be ruined by Dolly fucking Parton.

“Alright ladies, gather ‘round!”

 

Sixteen teenage girls jog to their coach, their faces free of makeup and their hair pulled back into plaits. They take a knee around coach Michelle, bumping shoulders, the pre-game jitters already affecting all of them, made worse by the importance of the occasion.

 

“Listen, it’s today, alright?  First game of the season, this is how you make your impression.  To all you seniors, scouts are already here, so everyone _has_ to be on their game today, alright?”  She asks, getting a communal noise of agreement through mumbles and nods.  This only frustrates her.“I said _alright?”_ She asks, louder,this time. She's met with a resounding, _‘Right Coach!’ And_ nods.

 

“Good, because we’re going to need it.  The Dolls took the gold from us last year, and is a loss the way we want to start out our season?  I’ll answer- it’s not.” She walks menacingly around the group of kneeling girls, some picking at their gloves nervously.  

 

“I want to see _good softball_ out there, I want to see every girl giving their all, I want to see that you want it.  Do you want it?” She asks, and is once again meet with a ‘ _Yes Coach!’_ -this time much louder than the last.  “Good”.

 

Her face softened slightly as she saw the circle of nervous faces. “I know you can do it,” she smiled, causing everyone to relax slightly. These were her girls, she wanted them to do well but more than that, she wanted to protect them.

 

“Right! I know that we all know about the new addition to The Dolls, but we have trained through the winter, so what is one new player, to our hard work?  I believe in you girls, okay? Hands in, and Bears on three, ready?”

 

“One, two, three, Bears!”

 

Hands go flying up, followed by whoops and hollers, the team high-fiving each other to get hyped up for the game.  Katya is clutching her bright red glove and heads to the dugout to double-check the batting order one last time, when a hand grabs her shoulder roughly.  

 

“Yo, Red!”

 

She turns to see her friend Adore grinning at her with a conspiratorial glint in her eye.  Katya nods her head in greeting, but is wary of the way Adore is smiling like a maniac.

 

“What’s with the crazy eyes?”  She asks, making her friend chuckle.

 

“Shut up,” she responds, shoving at Katya playfully, who allows a small smile to dance across her face, “I just wondered if you were freaked out by the new player on the Dolls this season?”  She asks, taking her hand of Katya to secure her green hair in a ponytail. “Did you hear that it was-”

 

“Trixie Mattel?”  Katya finished, “yeah, I heard.”  She fixes her eyes on Adore. Of course her friend is crazy, they all are going a little crazy, hearing that _the_ Trixie Mattel was joining their long-time rival’s team.  Trixie Mattel was an mystery but her reputation preceded her, and for good reason. Known for breaking a record in her league back in Milwaukee for most points in a season, she was practically legendary when up to bat, which is intimidating for everybody, especially Katya who’s their team’s pitcher.  No one on the Bears had actually seen Trixie yet, but they all knew the batting type, big, muscular, butch with manly features. Someone who had broke a record for their skills up to bat, was bound to be another big-armed jackass who knew how to hit a ball, and if the rumours are true, she can _definitely_ hit a ball.  

 

Now, Katya won’t sell herself short.  She’s played softball since she could walk, and had created a pretty impressive reputation of her own in their league for her pitching skills. Always hard balls, always perfect lines, and almost always resulting in a strike-out.  She was known as “Red” for her trademark cherry-red glove, and it was a well-known and universally feared name, as many girls were terrified of batting when she’s pitching. And for good reason, Katya thought.

 

“Yeah, but did you hear that she’s _hot?_ ”  Adore asks, snapping Katya back to reality, and she furrowed her eyebrows disbelievingly at Adore, who still has that manic glint in her eye.

 

“Really?  A star batter is _hot_?”  She asks, rolling her eyes and going to head back to the dugout.  “I’ll believe it when I see it.” She starts walking, but Adore grabs her arm again.

 

“Then _see_ dumbass, look, there she is, warming up her swing.  D’you see her?” Adore points, and Katya rolls her eyes again at Adore’s insistence, refusing to look in the direction her friend is motioning towards.

 

“Who cares what she fucking looks like mama, I’m here to win, okay?  Not get distracted by girls with giant arms and tiny heads.” Katya laughs, and now Adore rolls her eyes.

 

“Don’t fucking lie, you check out every. Single.  Batter. When you pitch. It’s probably all a big hoax, you aren’t actually good at throwing a ball, you just scare the girls into swinging badly because they’re freaked out by the Russian pervert eye-fucking them before they bat.”  Katya flips Adore off, but gives in, and follows where Adore’s finger is pointing, across the diamond to where Trixie is standing.

 

Okay, fine. Objectively, Trixie Mattel is hot.  Objectively. Katya stares as she twists her body, mimicking a swing, so she’s almost facing where Katya is standing, staring at her.  Her arms are toned, but she doesn’t look nearly as jacked as the women Katya normally plays against. Objectively, her figure is classically attractive she supposed. Her waist is pretty small, at least in comparison to her round ass that is hugged by her softball pants in _just_ the right way.  Proportionately, her boobs are large as well, and Katya can see the strain it’s having on the button-up front of the Dolls’ jersey.  Obviously she observes all these things _objectively_. She has a mess of blonde curls that had been somehow wrangled to be held securely underneath a batting helmet, but Katya can see her entire face. Oh for fuck’s sake her face.  She turns to Adore.

 

“Who the fuck wears a full face of makeup while they play?”  She asks incredulously, and Adore shrugs.

 

“I guess she does.  Who cares though, do you _see_ her body?”  Katya just frowns and pushes past Adore.

 

“Whatever, people only wear makeup while they play if they have something to prove.  It’s stupid.” Katya practically stomps into the dugout, clenching her red glove tightly, and prepares for the game.

 

\--

 

Step.  Swing. Release.  This was a motion that Katya had done a million times, so why was her hand sweaty?  Trixie finally takes her place at the plate, and Katya stares her down from the pitching mound, trying to intimidate, and pointedly _not_ looking at her curves.  Trixie meets her gaze, and Katya watches as her eyes go wide for a second, before narrowing, and her face upturns to a small smirk.  And she fucking _winks_ .   _What the fuck?_ Katya’s now frustrated, but in the back of her mind, she registers Coach Michelle yelling, ‘ _C’mon Red, give’r it”._ She wants to yell back that she's trying but she concentrates on the game instead. Her chances at winning gold this year we're not going to be ruined by Dolly fucking Parton.

 

Step.  Swing. Release.  Thump.

 

It lands perfectly in the back catcher’s mitt, a strike,  and pleasure tingles through her spine. Trixie hadn’t even swung.  She’s aware of her team cheering from behind her, and she relaxes as she catches the ball returning to her.  Trixie’s face is no longer looking as cocky, she looks confused, and a little upset. This time, when she lifts her bat, her eyes are still narrowed but her smirk is gone. She's suddenly as serious as Katya.

 

Step.  Swing. Release. Thump.

 

Strike two.

 

Her team is going crazy now, because two strikes on a record-breaking batter?  Not so record breaking now, huh, Mattel? She looks up and sees something in Trixes eyes change. For some reason it makes her nervous but Katya is still confident, and sends another hardball that always stumps girls up to bat.

 

Step. Swing.  Release. Whack.

 

Katya watches, dumbfounded, as the ball sails through the air, way past the outfielders and Katya swears as she watches it bounce across the field.  There’s no way that the outfielders can bring it to home base in time, so it’s for sure a home run. Trixie shoots Katya a look while she jogs past her, bitch has the audacity to _jog._ She just glared in response, watching as Trixie leisurely made her way around the field. She may as well have taken a nap. She certainly had time.

 

Katya glares daggers into the back of Trixie’s head as she passes through home plate.  Top of the first inning, and Trixie was already showing her stripes. This was going to be a long game.

 

\--

 

Long it was, and Katya was high off of the exhilaration of playing again, being out on the diamond, hearing the resounding thuds of balls landing in mitts.  While it was nice to be out and playing again, Katya was exhausted, running herself ragged to throw every pitch with precision. Around the fourth inning, Katya was waiting for her turn to bat and her teammate Ginger sat right next to her, patting her knee.  

 

“Nice work out there Red, but don’t burn yourself out, alright?  We don’t need to be down a pitcher.” Katya just rolls her neck and cracks her back in response, uncomfortably aware of the obvious sweat stains on the armpit area of her Jersey. She always was the sweatiest girl in the league.  When she didn’t answer immediately, Ginger continued on, this time a little softer. “Katya, seriously, it’s okay, it’s only a game.”

 

Now Katya turned to glare at her friend, who just shrugged.

 

“It’s not a game, Ginge, this is it!  This is what college scouts look for, and my skills will _not_ be undermined by some stupid, makeup obsessed hick who knows how to hit a ball.”  She said, frustrated. Ginger picked up her water bottle and stood up, knowing better than to talk to Katya when she got into moods like this.

 

When the bottom of the last inning rolled around, everyone was tense.  The Dolls were only up by one, and bases were loaded. All Katya needed to do was hit this one good, and as long as two people got home, they’d win.  Two outs. Two strikes. Three balls. Katya needed to smoke this out of the park, or the team was screwed.

 

The Dolls’ pitcher was decent, nothing compared to Red, but she held her own.  The ball hurls toward Katya, and in a practiced motion, she swings hard, and hits it.  It flies over the field, and Katya wants to cry. Thank _God._ She begins running to first, and Adore starts sprinting home when she realizes- Oh fucking Christ.  Her running slows as the ball starts to descend softly. A voice in left field yells ‘ _I got it!’_ and Katya swears as she hears the thump of a glove catching a ball.  Someone did catch it. The Dolls just won.

 

Katya glares in the direction of the outfielder, who is now wielding the ball-filled glove like a trophy, and the Dolls run to surround her, hugging her and clapping her on the back.  Katya makes eye contact with the fielder, and her frown deepens, because of course, who else would’ve caught her ball than Trixie-motherfucking-Mattel.

 

Katya doesn’t want to look at her.

 

She unclasps the button on the helmet, and jogs back to her team’s dugout, where the girls are coming out to shake hands, and Coach Michelle is clapping slowly, congratulating the girls for a _‘nice try’,_ but they all know that she’ll be kicking their asses into high gear at the next practice.

 

It all seemed relatively friendly, more so than usual but that didn’t mean Katya wasn’t sulking. She was sulking like someone half her age or younger. The kind of sulk you sink into at 5 years old when you've been denied candy. The last thing she wanted was to talk to someone, let alone the person who'd put her into this mood in the first place. That didn't stop Trixie Mattel from ending her conversation with a group a girls, to start walking over to her. Shit. Go away, go away, go away, go-

 

"Hey! Red is it? Nice game!" She was smiling sweetly, as if she hadn't just completely annihilated her team without so much as smudging her makeup. Katya swore she could feel her blood pressure climbing.  
  
"That's not my name," she replied, cringing inwardly at how childish she sounded. She knew she was a sore loser but she'd rather die than let Trixie know she'd gotten to her. She tried again, making an effort to sound calmer this time. "Katya, my names Katya".  
  
"My mistake. That's pretty, I like it".  
  
Katya reddened, wondering why she was so affected by this perfectly civil conversation. She looked at the blondes face and frowned. It was something about the way a smirk played behind Trixes eyes. Like she knew exactly how much she was getting under her skin, and she was enjoying every second.  
  
"It's Russian. Katyas actually still a nickname, short for Yekaterina..." she mumbled, as she watched Trixies smirk grow, much to her annoyance. Why was she telling her that? She didn't need her to give away anything about herself to this girl.  
  
The doll just continued to grin before saying, "Well Trixie isn't short for anything, and I've never had a nickname".  
  
"Do you not have any friends?" Katya retorted, surprised at how bitter it came out.  
  
"No, I just think Trixie is already short enough".  
  
"Right".  
  
There was a pause that was way too long to be comfortable in which Katya just continued to frown, trying to wipe the smirk off her face with a look. Finally Trixes grin faltered slightly. "I'm sorry, have I done something to upset you?"  
  
Before Katya could answer Adore rushed over, seemingly unaffected by their team being beaten.  
  
"Hey baby! Not feeling too bad about being a big fat loser are we?"  
  
Katya tried to joke back to her but couldn't quite get her smile to reach her eyes. Not with Trixie here to gloat.  
  
"And you!" Adore continued, turning to face the blonde, "amazing game!"  
  
She held out her hand for Trixie too shake, and she did so laughing at the forwardness. "Hey, thank you! This is a pretty nice greeting when I'm technically meant to be your arch enemy now?"  
  
Adore just grinned. "Nah, I'm chill it's all fun. It's Red over here that takes it seriously".  
  
Katya shot Adore a look but it was too late.  
  
"Really? I couldn't tell..." Trixie muttered sarcastically, eyeing Katya who looked ready to spit. "Anyways I better be off, I think we're going out for ice cream to celebrate...since, you know, we won….it was nice meeting you Red. Good game!"  
  
"My names not-" but she was already walking away, joining The Dolls who surrounded their star player with pats on the back and hugs.  
  
Adore turned to her friend with one eyebrow raised. "Well that wasn't very friendly".  
  
"Shut up".  
  
"You wanna join them for ice cream?"  
  
She punched her in the arm.

  
  
  
  



	2. No1 Fan

Katya lay in bed that night still fuming. Who did this bitch think she was? Strutting up to bat with half of Sephora plastered on her face, in a uniform that's at least 2 sizes too small and beating her! It had to be witchcraft, there was no way she could move that smoothly in such tight clothes. Speaking of which...Her mind wandered back to the way the seams had strained to contain her hourglass figure….no! No, she was not doing this. Trixie Mattel was now her sworn enemy, and she was going to work harder than she ever had to make sure that when they met again, it would be her turn to be smug.

It was with this comforting thought that she drifted off to sleep, her mind relaxing slightly as her heartbeat replaced the soft thuds of a ball being caught in a glove.

-

Obviously Michelle gave them hell at the start of the next practise. That had been expected, but it didn't mean it stung any less.

“I'm disappointed in all of you, okay? I know that you’re better than this!” Katya hung her head in shame. It was her hit that had lost them the game. It was all her fault, and she felt like absolute shit. She decided to speak up.

“With all due respect coach, it was a tied game until the end. The only reason we lost was my inability to properly hit a ball. Also, that, uh, that blondes chick’s really good…” Katya trailed off, shrugging and clutching her glove. Michelle must have only processed the last part, because she plowed on with her speech.

“I don't care if she's good! We need to be better! What's the point of working this hard if we're not at the top?”

The girls were silent.

“I'll answer! There isn't one! You all may as well just go home and pursue creative writing, like idiots! You want that?”

There was a general murmur of “no’s” and Michelle looked sad suddenly.

“Girls...I know I'm harsh but I want what's best for you. You're never going to get to the top if you get consolidation and praise for losing. Losing is for losers. And we are not losers girls”.

“She's so good though…” Courtney began, but was cut off.

“I don't want to hear another word about Tracy Martel! There's one of her and 16 of us. Seems like a pretty unfair fight doesn't it? And yet she's winning!”

She lectured them for so long any actual practise was cut down to 20 minutes at the most. So when 16 disgruntled girls eventually made their way back to the changing room, they had a lot of energy left over to talk about the game.

“Katya, I just want you to know, it wasn't your fault!” Courtney said kindly.

She just nodded, but was unbelieving. Coach may have wanted to blame the whole team, but Katya wouldn’t have it. Her last swing had been fatal! She'd lost them the game and she knew it.

“It's just a game!” Adore smiled, putting her arm around her.

“Actually for some of us it's a little more than a game Delano…” Violet scoffed, “some of us take our careers seriously. And Katya might have prevented me from being talent spotted”.

“Violet take the stick out of your ass, the only thing that's preventing you from getting talent spotted is your distinct lack of talent,” Adore retorted, squeezing Katya tighter protectively.

“Shut up Adore, the only base you can get to is third with the entire swim team!”

“At least I'm hitting more than a softball bitch!”

“You're the one that's going to get hit in a minute if you don't shut the fuck up!”

It escalated from there, insults being thrown around like bullets until one by one, the girls stormed out. Adore included, until Katya was left alone.

She wiped tears from her eyes and stuffed her glove in her bag, taking out her phone. She had a Facebook friend request. She opened it and nearly gasped to see it was from Trixie. That bitch. How was she managing to worm her way into every crevice of her day? Couldn't she let her brain enjoy one second of Trixie free peace? Clearly not, she thought she stared down at the friend request.

She wanted to decline it, but something small and curious inside stopped her. Next to Trixes name was her profile picture, and Katya could make out bright pinks and yellows in a blur of colour, the icon to small to help her discern any specific features. She squinted, but it only helped blur the pixels. Sighing, she pressed accept. There was no way she was going to pass up an opportunity to learn more about the girl who'd seemingly ruined her life in a single day.

She took a seat at the bus-stop, and started to scroll through Trixies feed. 2678 friends. What on god's good earth? Katya was sure she'd never even met that many people, let alone acknowledged them enough to add them on social media. She clicked Trixie profile photo to enlarge it, and felt her heart flutter at the photo. Pink hair! Since when did Trixie get pink hair? She looked at the date it was posted and saw it was yesterday. Did she go home and celebrate by turning herself into candyfloss? It seemed like a Trixie thing to do. And she was wearing glasses! She must have put contacts in to play softball but Katya wished she hadn't. They suited her face, framing it so that it looked softer than it was fair for a human being too look. Her white shirt with cropped sleeves had been paired with a yellow pinafore, and the yellow and pink shouldn't have worked but they did. It all worked. It had 678 likes. Katya shut down the Facebook app quickly when she realised she was blushing.

So she had pink hair, tried to make friends with everyone she'd ever met, and she could hit a ball. Katya could do all those things! She could change her hair from its dirty blonde to a cute pastel if she really wanted. She could invite strangers to look at her life if she pleased. And god dammit she could do a lot more than hit a ball. Katya was everything Trixie was. So who was going to explain that to the butterflies currently trying to find their way out of her stomach? Because they clearly were not getting the message.

It was later that night when curiosity finally got the better of her and she once again opened up Trixes profile. She clicked on photos and immediately wished she hadn't. There were hundreds, all of Trixie in groups of friends or family. Posing adorably with peace signs and winks as she laughed with strangers who seemed to be painted in monochrome next to her. Katya was transfixed as she poured through years worth of pictures.

Click Trixie at a picnic, grinning at the camera from a grassy bank, a glass of pink lemonade raised in her hand. Click Trixie at a birthday party, photographed mid spin as she twirled on a crowded dance floor. Click A younger looking Trixie kissing a large dog on the head as they sat huddled on a kitchen floor. Like- wait, shit! She’d clicked like! She hadn't been paying attention and she'd liked a photo that was, she checked the date, 7 FUCKING YEARS OLD. How long had she been scrolling to get way down there? Oh shit this was bad.

She tried to calm herself, reminding her panicked mind of the amount of friends Trixie had, all of whom were bound to be liking and tagging her in things all the time. She probably wouldn't even notice one little notification-

Trixie Mattel: Enjoy your little stalking session?

She jumped as she read the message, heart in her throat.

Red Zamo: I'm sorry, I didn't mean to like anything.

Pathetic she thought, not only did she just admit to stalking, now she was apologising for it too? Christ…

Trixie Mattel: It's ok, it's actually kind of flattering…

What? Katya felt a harrowing feeling, like her stomach was empty and she could feel wind howling within it.

Red Zamo: Flattering?

Trixie Mattel: Oh sure! To have you as the president of my fan club…

Katya scowled, closing the website and quickly shutting down her laptop, anger rushing to her face. Fuck Trixie Mattel. Fuck her softball skills, fuck her face, fuck her attitude and most of all FUCK her Facebook.

\--

Katya parks in her usual spot, right next to the side door of the dingy sports bar that she inhabits once a week. She won’t go in for a drink, but rather to utilise the batting cages set up in the back half of the building, right behind the long tables meant for parties. For most people, the cages are just a fun activity to attempt while tipsy, putting the setting on slow pitch and laughing at your friend’s results; but for Katya, this is how she de-stresses.

The past few days have been particularly stressful, the Trixie Facebook Fiasco had been on her mind more than she’d like to admit, but the chat has been untouched since it had taken place. Katya pushes open the bar door, a little bell jingling to notify the bar owner of the new presence. She raises her hand in greeting at the bartender who was wiping down the empty counter, and she nods her head in response.

“What’s good Red? Long time no see,” she greets, putting down her cloth to focus on Katya. She shrugs.

“You know how Coach is at the beginning of the season, all gung-ho about practices. Leaves no time to waste my money at a nearly evicted sports saloon”. She teases and the bartender barks a sharp laugh and tosses a small bag of tokens at Katya who catches them with ease.

“These’ll cover the machine for at least an hour. There’s only a few people back there, and I haven’t seen any little-league teams or drunken dads, so you should be good.” Katya nods in thanks and heads to the back of the bar where there’s lines of cages beyond a wall. Once she’s in the secluded area, she heads to her usual cage, right in the middle, and yanks her bat out of her bag, eyes raking the mostly empty corridor. The bartender was right, there was only a small party way back at the far cage, and Katya has to squint to see them better.

Fuck. Oh fuck, of fucking course.

Laughing loudly and tossing her perfect hair is the myth, the legend herself, Trixie Mattel. Looking smiley with two other girls, one that Katya recognizes from the dolls. Their pitcher, a slender blonde with sleepy eyes, and another girl who is sitting in a chair, but laughing loudly as well. Katya wishes she was in on the damn joke, because none of this seemed funny to her.

After tearing her eyes finally away from the group, Katya pushes a token into the machine, the whirring of a ball preparing to be pitched to her is already filling her ears, covering the sounds of cackling from across the hall. She needs to focus, she’ll be in and out in an hour, and maybe she won’t even have to face Trixie. That’d be the dream.

A softball comes hurtling towards her, and brings her back to reality, just in time to crack her bat and watch the ball sail and land harmlessly against the foam wall. As another one comes straight towards her, she finds herself falling into a rhythm, the Mattel dilemma slipping from her mind as she focuses on perfecting her form, and hitting the ball where it needs to go. It’s soothing, and just what she needed.

The repetitiveness of hitting ten times then pushing in another token engrosses Katya completely that she doesn’t hear the footsteps behind her, or notice the silence that follows. When Katya finally runs out of tokens, she takes a minute to crack her back, roll her neck, and extend her arms above her head, sore from an hour of straight hitting. Her serenity is broken with the sound of a voice from behind her.

“Putting on a show for me?” Katya snaps her head up and drops her arms. “Oh no, please don’t let me stop you, I’m just enjoying the view.” Trixie smirks from where she’s sitting next to Katya’s bag on a chair, and Katya still can’t wipe the shock from her face.

Where the fuck did you come from? Is what she wants to say, but what comes out is a strangled noise and then she stupidly asks,

“Did your friends leave?”

Trixie looks at her strangely, tapping a pink nail against the phone she was holding in her hand, and then nods, considering.

“Yeah, a while ago.”

“Why’re you still here then?” Katya asks, and the other girl shrugs, a smile tugging at her lips again.

“Well you know, I had to pay my number one fan a visit.” She winks, and the attention this pulls to her eyes remind Katya again of how much make up Trixie’s wearing, and Katya wants to roll her eyes. Does she always need a layer of goop on her face? Katya snatches her bag up and shoves her bat inside, then swings it over her shoulder.

“Shut up.” She says, and goes to push past Trixie who’s hot on her heels.

“Oh c’mon Red, lighten up! At least let me buy you a drink to apologise!” She tries to insist as they return to the bar area, but Katya pushes on, right out the front door. She sighs when she realizes that she’ll have to walk around the building to the side door where she’s parked, but there’s no way she’s going to head back inside. Trixie doesn’t need that kind of satisfaction. Katya walks on, not hearing the door or any steps behind her, so she beelines straight to her car. Once she’s seated in the front, she lets her head fall limp against the wheel and lets out a frustrated groan.

What the fuck was her problem?


	3. Lunch Date

“Look alive Red!”

Katya turns just in time to catch a ball that was coming her way, any second later and it would’ve left a nasty goose egg on her head.

“Sorry!” She calls to Adore who just shrugs and holds up her glove.

“Send it back, eh? What’s got you so distracted in the bleachers?” She asks, and Katya tosses the ball back to her, forcing herself to look calm and collected.

“Nothing, nothing. Just thinking.” She finishes lamely, but Adore doesn’t seem to push it, and they resume tossing the ball back and forth to each other like they do before every game. A nice, chill warm up to get everybody loose, but not too tired. Katy usually wouldn’t be too stressed, because they’re playing a team that they’ve beat countless times before, but there’s been a knot in her stomach since she arrived at the diamond and it refuses to go away. Adore’s right, she is distracted, because sitting second row in the million-year-old wooden bleachers is a group of players from the Dolls. And that group includes Trixie.

Katya is having a hard time forcing her eyes away from where they’re seated, and she isn’t sure how to feel that Trixie hasn’t caught her eye once. A new pressure looms over her, and she doesn’t want to cost her team another loss because of her damn inability to focus.

“Aye! Red! We’re heading in now!” Adore calls, and Katya realises that the whole team is starting to circle around Michelle, and she’s still standing like an idiot in outfield, with her glove up and open. She blushes and jogs to join the circle, decidedly not looking to see if Trixie is watching her or not.

Michelle giver her usual speech, and Katya is only half-listening, her mind wandering on its own accord, while Katya picks at her red glove. She’s only shocked out of her stupor when she hears ‘Bears on three, ready?’, an puts her hand in just in time to cheer with the rest of her team, ‘One, two, three, Bears!’

They’re playing field first again, so Katya takes her place on the pitching mound and cracks her neck for good measure as the first batter from the other team leisurely makes her way to the plate. Katya takes a deep breath. She can do this, she can pitch. This is going to be a good game.

\--

This game, as it turns out, was anything but a good one. Katya’s eyes kept wandering to the bleachers, and then she would focus so hard on not looking, that her pitch would go awry. This kept up the entire game, Katya only getting increasingly frustrated as the innings passed by, each one more disappointing than the last. By the time it was time to shake hands, Katya could barely even face her team. In the last game, they had only lost by one, and it was almost a fair fight. There was no denying it this time though. Their team had lost by six points, and it was almost entirely Katya’s fault.

Everyone still congratulates each other and says “good game”, but their tense stature around Katya makes it evident that everyone knows Katya cost them the game. It was no fluke. No magic catch. It was Katya consistently pitching poorly, and the knot in her stomach had transformed into a collection of knots that were tugging tighter with every step she took to her car. She got in to the front seat and turned the radio on. She didn’t even bother to turn on the engine.

She just sat.

She watched every car drive out of the parking lot, the victorious honks of the other teams, and the disappointed waves from her teammates as they too departed. She sat and waited, while her heart was still beating a mile a minute and she felt like she was going to throw up.

How could she do this? How could she have let her team down like this, letting them lose twice in a row? Absently, Katya took note of a tear drop landing on to the hands that she had clenched in her lap. Her hands were shaking as she brought them up to her cheeks, finding them tear soaked as well. She hadn’t even noticed that she was crying, but her shoulders shaking were now a telltale sign as she broke into silent sobs, clutching the sides of her head and leaning forward, letting out all of her emotions in her car in the empty parking lot. Well, at least she thought it was empty, until she heard the sound of her passenger door opening and closing shut. She looks up in surprise, choking back the sob she was about to release, but the red face and teary eyes make it very evident as to what she was doing previously.

“Are you okay?” Trixie asks, and Katya wants to scream at the softness in her voice.

“What the fuck are you doing in my car?” She asks instead, furiously wiping at her eyes and nose, trying to retain some of her dignity. “I could have you arrested for… well, for something!” She insists, trying to sound intimidating, but this only makes the pink-haired girl look more concerned.

“Red, you-you’re sweating a lot-”

“That’s because I’m an incredibly sweaty person, thank you, for pointing that out at this specific moment in time.” Katya interjects, getting increasingly louder and more irritated. “And also, thank you, for deciding to watch this game, watch me crash and burn while I bring my entire team down with me, thank you for sitting in that fucking bleacher with your fucking teammates and fucking makeup, and fucking watch me fucking lose the fucking game because I’m just so fucking bad at everything!” Katya finishes, her chest now heaving as she rants, and the tears continuously streaming over her face.

Trixie just listens in silence while Katya breathes heavily, trying to calm down enough to get the pink haired psychopath out and drive away. She was about to start screaming again when Trixie asked, “Do you want to grab some food?”

Katya spun round to face her.

“What?”

“I said do you want to grab some food?”

“Are you serious? Why are you here? This is my car I….I can't go anywhere anyway look at me!”

“I am. And you look like you could use some food. And some cold water. And a talk.”

Katya had given up trying to figure out Trixie. Everytime she thought she understood her, she did something like this. Was she even a bitch? She was definitely crazy if nothing else. Who climbs into a strangers car? Who climbs into a strangers car while they're crying? She looked back at her, and found that same twinkle in her eye that had been present when they'd first met. Maybe she wasn't taunting her, maybe she was genuinely just being kind…

“So? How about it?” The girl was smiling behind thick glasses, she looked sincere and Katya found her stress slowly fading the longer she looked at her from the passenger seat.

“Getting food?”

“Yeah”.

There was a pause as she considered. Fuck it.

“Ok”.

“Really?”

“Sure”.

Trixie looked surprised but delighted as Katya sniffed and started the engine.

“So where are we going?”

-

They ended up in a burger place a short drive into town and Katya had been surprised to find that she hadn't felt the need to swear once in the journey over. As it turned out, Trixie Mattel wasn't a self absorbed bitch, but rather a modest one. She wondered why she'd judged her so harshly for the playful teasing she'd given out when she won their match.

They sat in a booth and Katya laughed at Trixie as she ordered a veggie burger and a strawberry milkshake.

“You're a vegetarian?”

“I am indeed, since I was little”.

“Why? Why deny yourself the pleasure and texture and luscious sexuality of meat?”

“Does meat have a sexual appeal to you Zamo?”

“You ever had a pulled pork burger? Tell me that's not an orgasmic experience”

“That's concerning to me”.

“What is?”

“The fact that you find dead animals sexually appealing!”

Katya considered for a moment.

“Is that necrophilia, beastiality or a fun combo?”

Trixie let out a scream laugh that was funnier than any joke Katya could ever make.

“That's your laugh? That's not how a human person should laugh!”

“I know I can't help it!” She giggled, “and you've started doing it too!”

“I have not!”

“Yes you totally have you've picked it up! You copied me! It's not your fault I am a trend setting icon”.

“Oh yeah? Let me know when dressing like a nymphomaniac mathlete catches on!”

Trixie gasped in mock hurt, “um excuse you, you can come for my laugh but you leave my aesthetic out of this!”

It was the first time Katya had completely relaxed in a while and it felt good. Just sitting with this strange new women eating and cackling about things that literally nobody else would have found funny. It had been made clear 2 seconds in conversation that the girls shared the exact same sense of humour, and it had resulted in the table next to them asking to move as they were laughing way too loudly.

Trixies phone interrupted them by buzzing loudly on the table. She sighed as the glanced at the caller ID.

“It's Jared,” she muttered pressing decline.

“Who?”

“My boyfriend”.

“Oh”.

Katya didn't know why her heart felt like it had been hit like one of Trixie’s home runs.

“Don't you need to pick up the phone? If it's your boyfriend calling?”

“I want to carry on talking to you! He can wait”.

She smiled earnestly and Katya was pulled right back in. Once again caught up in conversation until Trixies phone buzzed again. She groaned.

“I wish he'd leave me alone! I'm not allowed any fucking space!”

“Break up with him,” Katya muttered through a mouth of burger, surprising herself with her own bluntness.

“Yeah?”

“I mean if you don't like him anymore what's the point being with him?”

“It's complicated…”

“You want to talk about it?”

“No I don't want to waste time talking about him…”

“You sure?”

“You don't want to hear about my relationship issues!”

Katya didn't want to admit that she was quite enjoying the fact that Trixie seemed to be on the edge of singlehood if this douche kept it up.

“I do!”

“It's nothing really, it's just super possessive and I'm super independent and...I guess we clash?”

“So why are you dating him?”

“He wasn't always like that, he used to be kind of sweet but…”

“But?”

“It might be too much information…”

“Tell me!”

“Honestly? I don't want to have sex with him and he's getting really really tired of that”.

“You should never feel any pressure to do anything with him!”

“I know that...I wish he knew that…”

“You want to know what I think?”

Trixie smiled.

“What do you think Katya?”

“I think you're way to good for his horny ass”.

Trixie shrieked with laughter.

“Thanks Red, I'll tell him that from you”.

Katya just winked.

\--

Swing. Release. Thump.

“Strike three, you’re out!” Calls the voice of the umpire, and Katya has to suppress the smile threatening to take over her face. The Bears are going crazy around her, and she hears Violet shouting ‘Come throuuuuuugh Red!’ from third base. For the first time in a while, she feels good during a game, relaxed even, as almost all of her pitches are resulting in strikeouts, and the Dolls aren’t looking to have much of a chance. One more out and the Bears win, so of course the Dolls send in their powerhouse, Trixie, to try and salvage the game for them.

When Trixie steps up to bat this time, Katya doesn’t feel a sense of dread, rather a wave of something else coursing through her that she pointedly ignores. Trixie gives Katya a wink, which makes the Russian laugh, and Trixie waves the bat above her head tauntingly. Trixie’s been hitting decently all game, but they both know that nothing can bring the Dolls back up. The Bears have this game in the bag.

Katya gives a hard glare to Trixie, though there’s no real malice behind it, and the batter knows this. Ever since their little lunch out, their dynamic has shifted. They’re nowhere near best friends (Katya still wants to win), but they will periodically send each other messages over facebook. Things like ‘didn’t see you at the cages this time, did I scare you off?’ Which was answered almost immediately with an ‘in your dreams,Mattel’. This game was their first time seeing each other face to face since that lunch, and they hadn’t had any time to talk before the game, but Katya was glad to see that nothing was awkward between the two of them.  
“Don’t just stand there lookin’ pretty Red, give’r!” Ginger shouts from outfield, and Katya straightens her posture into its correct position.

Swing. Release. Crack.

Fuck.

Katya watches as the ball once again sails overhead, and Trixie takes off running to first. Katya sees the ball beginning to go higher and higher, and she grins. It’s just a pop fly. The ball begins descending slowly over outfield and she hears Ginger, ‘I got it! I got it!’ Thump.

She got it. They won. It’ their first win this season, so naturally, as any teenage girls do, they went nuts. Whooping, hollering, throwing their gloves and hats in the air. They give each other high fives, then Coach Michelle corrals them in to shake hands with the other team. They line up opposite of the Dolls, and their hands brush by in congratulations, a chorus of ‘good game’s all melting together. As captain, Katya is at the back of her line, and she tries not to act surprised when Trixie gives her the same stone-faced ‘good game’, as all the other girls.

She is even more surprised, however, when she feels a sharp smack to her butt, and turns around to see Trixie grinning over her shoulder as she jogs back to her bench. Katya laughs under her breath and follows the line of her team as they head to their own dugout, still giddy from finally getting a win.


	4. Late nights

There was one thing Katya valued more than anything else in the world, and that was sleep. She would slaughter a man for 15 precious extra minutes in the morning, and cancel plans to take a nap or call it an early night. Anyone who knew Katya, knew that calling Katya anytime after 7pm was on the same ethical level as genocide.

  


And yet, at 12:35pm her phone rang, buzzing and lighting up directly under her head. She woke with a jump, looking at the caller ID with bleary eyes. Trixie. This girl was running out of ways to freak her out. For some reason she answered, rather than sending a “what the fuck do you think you're doing?” text.

  


“What the fu-” she began, before Trixies sobs rang down the phone.

  


“Red? I'm sorry I didn't know who else to call…” she mumbled, her voice thick with tears.

  


“Trix? What's wrong? Did someone die? Are you hurt?”

  


“The only thing that's dead is my relationship!”

  


“Ok wow. Dramatic”.

  


“Sorry”.

  


“No it's fine, I'm just half asleep, what happened?”

  


“Jared was round...and he, I guess I just said no one to many times and he ended it”.

  


“Oh Trix I'm sorry…”

  


“No! No don't be! You didn't do it!”

  


“I know but I'm still sorry...you seem really upset”.

  


“Upset? Me? Never! Fucking furious maybe…”

  


“You're literally sobbing”.

  


“I don't think I am!”

  


“I...I can hear you?”

  


“Ok fine, but they're angry tears”.

  


“You can be sad Trixie…”

  


“He was an arsehole”.

  


“True”.

  


“He treated me like shit”.

  


“True”.

  


“He just wanted sex”.

  


“Also true and you know what?”

  


“What?”

  


“You can still be sad about him.”

  


There was a silence down the line.

  


“Trix?”

  


“Yeah?”

  


“You wanna hit some balls?”

  


“I want to hit his balls”.

  


“Not what I meant but to you could always visualise…”

  


“What do you mean?”

  


“I'm getting in my car, be ready in 5 and bring a bat”.

  


She hung up the phone before immediately calling her back.

  


“Hello?”

  


“Yeah hi it's Katya, what's your address again?”

  


Trixie laughed and it was the first time that night she wasn't crying.

  


Katya’s knuckles were white from how hard she was gripping her travel mug of coffee.  She was waiting in her car outside of Trixie’s house, having just sent a text to her, letting her know she had arrived.  Katya had no idea who Trixie lived with, but she bet that they wouldn’t be pleased with the doorbell ringing at 1:30 in the morning.  She took a sip of the scalding black coffee as the front door finally opened, and Trixie came barrelling out, her ball bag slung over her shoulder with the bat visible from the top.

  


Trixie, for lack of better words, looked like a mess.  Her light pink hair was thrown into a messy ponytail on the top of her head, and she had traded the usual pastels she was seen in, to a black joggers and bunnyhug ensemble.  But what was most shocking, Katya realised as she came closer, that her face was completely devoid of makeup. Katya had never seen her without eyeliner and eye shadow blown out of proportion, and the most gaudy pink on her lips.  Katya had almost thought that she sleeps in it.

  


But here she was, face makeup free and looking possibly the most human that Katya’s ever seen, and it’s so vulnerable that it makes her chest seize up.  It’s easier to not like someone when they don’t reveal their true self.

  


Trixie crosses over in front of Katya’s car to the passenger side and yanks open the door, sitting down in it like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like she belongs in that seat.  She shoves her bag in the back and faces Katya.

  


“What the fuck are we doing?”  Trixie asks, raising one eyebrow in question.  Her face is still slightly puffy from crying, but she looks like she’s gained some composure compared to the sobs that Katya heard earlier.  The Russian gave a conspiratorial smile.

  


“You’ll see when we get there.”  

  


Trixie rolled her eyes and huffed something under her breath about ‘kidnapped’ and ‘ _this_ is how I die?’, but Katya just pulled the car into gear and began the quick drive to the empty batting cages.

  


They were quiet for a while, just listening to the sound of the engine and watching the world go by, the light of the street lamps providing a calming glow.

  


“Do you want to talk about it?” Katya finally said, her eyes not leaving the road.

  


Trixie smiled sadly.

  


“We didn't fit. I knew we didn't fit but I didn't do anything about it”. She

  


There was another silence as Katya thought for a moment.

  


“Did you love him?”

  


“Wow big question”.

  


“Sorry, you don't have to answer”.

  


“Honestly I don't know. I thought I did? Well...I don't even know if that's true. I think I liked him. He was fun and sweet and…”

  


“And?”

  


“I don't know...somehow he wasn't enough”.

  


“Oh?”

  


“That sounds terrible. I'm selfish”.

  


“You're really far from selfish Trixie. You stayed with him despite not being 100% happy. That's pretty selfless”.

  


“I guess. I don't know..sometimes I think…”

  


“Think what?” She prompted.

  


Trixie bit her lip, as if trying to decide whether to speak.

  


“Nevermind,” she finally muttered. And Katya dropped the subject immediately.

  


Fifteen minutes of comfortable silence later they pulled into the parking lot of the bar with Katya’s usual cages, and Trixie looked at her in confusion.

  


“Red, are you an idiot?  The cages are obviously closed.  They probably closed at like, I don’t know, seven o’clock or something!”

  


“Actually, the cages close at eight, and the bar closes at one.  Ol’ Ginsberg, the bar owner, doesn’t like to the keep the doors open too late.”  Was Katya’s response as she popped open the front door, going around the back of her car to grab Trixie’s bat and bag.  Trixie followed her out in a rush, still looking confused.

  


“And it’s now nearly quarter to two, you said it yourself, they’re _closed._ ”

  


Katya had her back facing Trixie, so she turned around slowly, and lifted a small ring of keys, jingling them a little for emphasis.

  


“They aren’t closed for me.”

  


Trixie’s eyes widened in realisation, and Katya laughs.

  


“How the _fuck_ do you- what?”  

  


Katya shrugs and starts leading Trixie towards the back door, still holding Trixie’s bag.  Trixie mindlessly follows, gaping at what they’re about to do.

  


“I’m a regular, and the bartender trusts me.  She knows that I hit to clear my mind and calm me down, so I figured maybe you might need a bit of a stress reliever right now.”

  


Trixie is silent behind Katya as the blonde fumbles with the keys, finally getting the right one to wrench the door open.  It’s eerie being in here when no one else is, but once Katya flicks on the lights, she feels more at ease. She walks towards the cages at the back, and hearing the patter of Trixie’s runners behind her, she knows that the pink-haired girl hasn’t bailed.

  


Katya grabs some spare tokens from behind the counter and heads over to a machine at the end of the corridor, and pats it, looking expectantly at Trixie, who is being uncharacteristically quiet.

  


“You ok?”

  


“Hmm…”

  


“Trixie?”

  


“It's just...did he really give you the keys? Is this illegal Kat?”

  


Katya burst into laughter.

  


“Trixie...you're cute but you're not ‘risk my freedom’ cute. I promise we haven't just broken into batting cages, the police aren't on their way, you're safe”.

  


Trixie was quiet and Katya stopped laughing.

  


“Sorry, I was only teasing…”

  


“You think I'm cute?”

  


“What?”

  


“You said I was cute”.

  


Katya was immediately flustered.

  


“No I didn't? Did I say that?”

  


“Yes”.

  


“Oh. Sorry”.

  


“You didn't mean it?”

  


“Mean what?”

  


Trixie just smiled, “nevermind Red, give me those tokens”.

  


Katya's face was living up her name as she handed the small bag of tokens over. She noted Trixie looked almost proud to have made her blush. She wasn't irritated by that like she would have been when they first met. If anything, she quite liked it…

  


Trixie hit the first ball a little half-heartedly, a soft hit that would've been caught by shortstop.  Katya frowned.

  


“Okay, I _know_ that wasn’t your best hit.”  

  


Trixie made a face and straightened her posture.

  


“Well it’s not like I’ve got anything on my mind or something like that,” Trixie bites sarcastically, hitting the next ball the comes flying at her with a little bit more force, but nowhere near her potential capacity.  Her response makes a light bulb go off in Katya’s head. She clears her throat.

  


“What, are you upset or something?”  She asks loudly, and Trixie furrows her eyebrows.

  


“Of course I’m _upset,_ Red, he dumped me!”  Trixie exclaims, hitting the next ball with a new anger, and Katya has to fight a smile off of her face.

  


“Yeah he did!  What an asshole!”  Katya agrees, and hears the ‘ _crack’_ of the bat hitting a ball, watches it sail, almost hitting the mat at the back wall, but not quite.

  


“A total asshole!”  Trixie adjusts her grip on the bat, and Katya can see her hands clenching.  “He fucking dumped me because I refused to fuck him! What the fuck!” She nearly shouted, and swung the bat even harder, the ball now flying at a deadly pace.  Katya snuck another token in the machine to keep the automatic pitches coming to her.

  


“Yeah what the fuck Jared!”  Katya shouted alongside her, egging her on, as Trixie hit what looked like would be a home run.  

  


“And he-”

  


_Crack_

  


“Never-”

  


_Crack_

  


“Got that maybe-”

  


_Crack_

  


_“_ What he was offering-”

  


_Crack_

  


“Just isn’t what I’m into!”

  


_Crack.  Crack. Crack._

  


Katya watches in awe as ball after ball goes sailing overhead, the cracks of the bat loud and resounding, and the responsive thud of the ball hitting the mat on the back wall.  There are tears evident on Trixie’s face, and Katya sees them streaming down her cheeks. It’s not the tears that are surprising Katya however, it is the ferocity in which she is attacking the balls with.  She hits the last one with the biggest whack that she’s done all night, and Katya sees her halt when there isn’t another one being pitched to her. She looks confusedly at the no longer whirring machine.

  


“No more tokens _milochka”,_ Katya says quietly, taking a step closer to Trixie who was slowly lowering her bat.  The clang of the metal bat hitting the ground echoes throughout the empty cages. “Trix-”  Katya’s attempts at comforting words are cut off as the pink haired girl steps forward, collapsing into her.  Katya hastily wraps her arms around her, as soft sobs tremble Trixie’s shoulders.

  


“I’m sorry, I- I’m so-”

  


“Shhhhh”, Katya rubs circles onto Trixie’s back, “there’s no need to apologise.”

  


Trixie slowly pushed herself away and looks at Katya with tearstained eyes.

  


“There is, Red, it’s two in the morning, and-and I’m pouring my life out to you, wh- when you don’t even, fuck, don’t even have to listen, and I-”  Trixie stumbles over her words, taking deep breaths that make her stutter.

  


“Actually, you hit for so long, it’s around two thirty, so…”  Katya trails off and Trixie snorts, smacking the other girl’s arm lightly.

  


“Can it, smartass, I’m trying to thank you,”  Trixie retorts, and Katya can see a small glint in her eye, putting her at ease.  She smiles warmly.

  


“Anytime.”  

  


Trixie looks straight into Katya’s eyes, her gaze so piercing it feels like she’s looking straight through her.  Katya doesn’t squirm out of the way, or feel uncomfortable. Something about this feels right. Trixie’s attention on her, a comfortable silence falling over the both of them, the distinct smell of musty gloves and dirty softballs poignant in the air.  It’s a nice feeling.

  


The silence is broken when Trixie breaks her gaze, huffing and looking at her feet.

  


“Don’t you like, hate me or something?”  She asks quietly.

  


Katya was surprised at the sudden change of tone, but answered honestly.

  


“No...no I don't hate you”.

  


“You kind of act like you hate me”.

  


“Didn't stop you being my friend though did it?”

  


Trixie laughed quietly.

  


“No, no it didn't”.

  


“You're very persistent”.

  


Trixie sighed, before looking up at Katya with an earnestness she hadn't seen before.

  


“I think there's just something about you that felt worth the chase”.

  


“What does that mean?”

  


“I don't know. I don't know I'm tired,” she muttered, shrugging on her jacket and offering Katya a hand, “home?”

  


Katya took it, and felt how warm it was from the batting. Their fingers slotted together so perfectly she wondered how she'd gone this long without her hand entangled with Trixie’s.

  


She knew this didn't mean anything, it was a friendly action, meant to comfort Trixie and get across her thanks wordlessly, but that didn't stop Katya replaying her words in her head over and over.

  


Something about her was worth the chase...she'd sounded so soft and quiet when she'd said it. Like she was sharing a prayer or a secret. She wished she could look into her mind and find out exactly what she meant.

  


They got back into the car, and finally broke hands. Katya felt suddenly empty, but enjoyed the comfortable silence they'd settled into. It didn't escape her how odd her current situation was, driving in the early hours of the morning with a woman she barely knew, helping her get over a breakup. Thinking about it...it didn't even seem like she was that cut up about Jared. She seemed to regard him with disdain if anything...but she was filled with an anger that had made her hit those balls with such a terrifying force, and a hurt that had her collapsing into Katya’s arms. What was Trixie Mattel hiding?

  


“Thank you again Red…”

  


“Don't mention it!”

  


“No, no I'm going to mention it, this was so wonderful”.

  


“You're welcome. Do you feel any better?”

  


“Yeah Jareds a dick”.

  


“Yeah…he is”.

  


Trixie wasn't meeting her eye still, maybe she knew Katya had cottoned on to the fact that her tears weren't entirely due to her douchebag ex. Or maybe she was just trying not to cry again.

  


They pulled up outside Trixie's house and Katya hopped out to hug her goodbye.

  


She pulled her in, wrapping both arms around her in an effort to pass over some happiness through osmosis. It clearly didn't work because when Trixie pulled away her eyes were glossed over with tears again. Katya smiled

“You'll be ok you know…”

  


They stayed there just looking at each other for a beat to long. She opened her mouth to speak again but  was caught off guard when Trixie suddenly moved in and pressed her lips softly to Katyas. She was startled, but found herself unable to comprehend her own surprise before she was caught up in the soft movements of Trixies mouth. Time sped up and slowed down as the unexpected kiss silenced the noise in Katya's head, until all she could hear was Trixes name repeated like a poem over and over again in her mind.

  


It was Trixie who finally pulled away, Katya thought she could have happily stayed in that moment forever.

  


“Ok,” she muttered, half to herself.

  


“Ok?” Katya replied, her confusion rushing back without the distraction.

  


Trixie blinked and stepped back, this time more abruptly.

  


“I-uh, _shit,_ Ok.  Um, I’m sorry, that was, I’m sorry.”  Trixie continued, looking flustered, and Katya reached out to ground her, because Trixie was looking like a deer in the headlights, confused and worried.

  


“Trix-”

  


Trixie swerved out of her reach and took a breath, gathering herself.  She finally looked back into Katya’s eyes, and took a breath as if to say something.  She opened and closed her mouth, then shook her head. She brushed a stray piece of hair back behind her ear, and turned around and walked back into her house, without another word.

  


“Trixie?”  Katya called helplessly, conflicted if she was supposed to run after her, or give her space.  She decided to go with the latter, and turned slowly.

  


Katya got back into her car, sat for a moment, and then despite everything, laughed. Who does this pink-haired girl think she is, running into Katya’s life, kissing her, then apologising?  

  


Katya puts her car into gear and glances back to ensure she has room to get out of the parking space.  Her eyes flit down and she notices a bump in her backseat. Of course, it’s Trixie’s bag and her bat laying next to it.  Jesus, this girl is going to be the death of her, she thinks, pulling onto the nearly empty road and heading home. Trixie can come get her bag tomorrow.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! Grace and I are both so so so so happy that you guys are reading and liking the story! Honestly thank you for all of the kind comments (and wow everyone flipping their shit over the butt smack is gay culture).
> 
> If you want to reach me or my lovely co-writer you can find us on tumblr! The URLs are the same as our AO3 names so you can find me at goodshipsdontsink and Grace at jomarchisgay !! 
> 
> <3


	5. Cigarettes and No Regrets

Trixie swore as the ball bounced off of the tip of her glove, rolling past her into the deep outfield.  

  


“You got to catch those ones Mattel, cut the hardballs off to prevent any homers!”  The Dolls’ Coach, Carson, calls from third base, and Trixie nods as she jogs to grab the ball and toss it back to infield, right into Pearl’s waiting glove.

  


“Sorry coach!”  She calls back, waving her gloved hand in the air, “Farrah’s hands are freaking _tiny!_ ”  She explains and takes her position back in right field.  Farrah, the third baseman turns her head and raises her eyebrows in exasperation.

  


“Really?  I let you borrow my backup glove and you complain that it’s too small?  Last time I try to be a decent person.” She says sarcastically, and the girls scattered over the field laugh good-naturedly.  Coach Carson clears his throat.

  


“Okay ladies, enough chit chat!  Let’s put our focus back to _practice_ okay?  Big game on Saturday against the Angels, and we don’t need another loss under our belt.  You can worry about glove issues later.” He signals Pearl to pitch again. “Play ball!”

  


\--

  


The practice continues in a regular fashion, drills, light scrimmaging, and batting practice.  Everyone is in a decent mood, because there’s a good chance of them winning against the Angels on the weekend, but for Trixie, everything about the practice is off.  The glove Farrah lent her is too small, the generic bats for “team use” (but everyone brings their own) are either too light or too heavy and it throws her batting off, and on top of that, a striking blonde pitcher with intense eyes and a bright smile refuses to leave her mind.  That pitcher also happens to be the reason that Trixie is turning to the shitty replacements for her own equipment.

  


In theory, it should’ve been simple, to retrieve her bag from Red-no- _Katya_ and carry on.  In reality, it was a lot harder.

  


What was she supposed to say, ‘ _Oh hey Red!  Sorry I crossed an unspoken boundary and pressed my stupid fucking lips against your soft sweet feminine ones, and then walked away because I had never kissed a girl before.  Anyways, I think I left my bag in your car! Mind if I swing by and pick it up?’_ Not awkward at all.

  


At the end of practice, Trixie tossed the basically useless bat into the team bag and wiped her hands on the sides of her pants.  Her teammate, Pearl, grasps her shoulder.

  


“Need a ride home?  Or are you going to catch the bus again?”  She asks, leading Trixie to the parking lot.  She shrugs in response.

  


“I don’t know, do you have any room…”  Trixie trails off as her eye catches a very familiar beat-up silver car in the lot, with a very familiar blonde leaning against it and grinning.  She swallows, “actually, don’t worry about it, I don’t need a ride.”

  


“You sure?”  Her teammate asks, already heading towards her own car, and Trixie nods.

  


“Yeah, no worries.”  

  


Pearl departs and Trixie makes her way over to Katya, who’s still smiling like a cheshire cat.  Trixie feels herself growing more and more sweaty as she approaches, a blush undoubtedly expanding over her neck and on her face.  What does she say? What should she say? What _can_ she say?  She’s the confident one, damnit!  She’s the one with the one liners and easy-going attitude, why is she clamming up now?

  


“Practice must have been a bitch.”  Is what Katya says once Trixie reaches her, and she struggles to form a response.  She had been watching Katya’s bare lips form words, because she now _knows_ how those lips feel against hers.  The blonde barrels on, not waiting for Trixie to respond.  “I personally can’t survive without my own glove. I’ve had that thing for years and would literally die without it.”

  


Trixie nods, regaining her composure.

  


“Yeah, you city slickers have tiny hands.”

  


Katya snorts and they fall into a silence.  Trixie feels cornered under Katya’s gaze, but nothing in her eyes is aggressive.  It’s soft, peaceful, and smiling softly as if she’s remembering something funny. It kind of makes Trixie want to punch her, but it also makes her want to kiss the stupid look off of her face, so she just crosses her arms and clears her throat.

  


“So, you, uh, have my bag or what?”  She asks, not intending for it to come out as harsh as it did, but thankfully, Katya only smiles.

  


“Yeah I took pity and brought it to your highness, it's in the trunk”.

  


Trixie walked round and grabbed her back from the back of the car, taking out her glove and slipping her hand into it, taking reassurance in its sturdiness.

  


“Thanks R- Katya”.

  


“No problem, you need a ride home?”

  


“Yes”.

  


“If only I had a car…”

  


“Just drive, you bitch”.

  


It was funny how easily they fell back into their gentle playfulness, and Trixie’s nerves soon fell away as she listened to Katya ramble as she drove. Neither of them mentioned the kiss, but it hung in the air, taunting Trixie blatant yet unspoken. She found herself picturing it, in a level of detail she hadn't allowed herself to before. She wondered why her brain was suddenly so okay with letting her remember. Katya suddenly started cackling at her own joke, eyes squeezed shut despite driving, and all at once Trixie realised that she didn't regret it. Not even a little bit. She was thankful for her own recklessness. She'd wanted to kiss Katya.

  


They pulled up outside her house way to quickly and Trixie started to open the door.

  


“Are you not going to kiss me goodbye?” Katya quipped, a teasing smile dancing behind her eyes.

  


Trixie grinned “oh I'm sorry! I nearly forgot!” , and then with sudden bravery lent forward and pressed their lips together, so fast Katya didn't have time to react.

  


Katya’s mouth fell open in an almost comical mask of shock, and Trixie was happy to note that it was her turn to blush.

  


“What's wrong Red? Didn't think I'd call your bluff?”

  


“No, no I'm really glad you did actually”.

  


“Okay”.

  


“Okay”.

  


They both smiled shyly.

  


“Trixie?”

  


“Yeah?”

  


“Get out of my car”.

  


“Oh I hate you”.

  


\--

  


The game against the Angels, as anticipated, was looking to be an easy win for the Dolls.  The crowd was uncontrollable at Trixie’s batting, as she hit a home run nearly every time she went up to the plate.  She felt a new energy buzzing through her fingertips, fluttering her heart, and giving her the motivation to swing at every ball like her life depends on it.  Every time she returned to the dugout after hitting home, she was greeted with a giddy team, jostling her shoulders and cheering. ‘ _Girl what has gotten into your blood today?  You’re on fire Trixie!’_ Pearl had asked, but Trixie only shrugged and smiled.  She’d responded easily, saying something about energy, and confidence, and whatnot.

  


The real reason for Trixie’s invigorated attitude was sitting front row on the wooden bleachers, beaming brightly at Trixie whenever she passed.  Trixie had been shocked to see Katya there before the game, considering she was still known to the rest of the Dolls as the menacing _Red_ from their rival team.  Upon inquiry, Katya had thrown her head back and laughed before pulling a pair of obnoxiously large sunglasses out of her pocket and placing them on her face.  ‘ _Don’t worry doll, I’m going incognito’,_ she had assured Trixie, who rolled her eyes in return.

  


Trixie can’t help though, the warmth she feels knowing that Katya is there, cheering for her.  Sure, she had gone and seen Katya’s game a few weeks back, but she went with some teammates, and that was to ‘spy on the competition’.  No, this was different, this was Katya coming on her own in her spare time, and coming solely for Trixie.

  


So yeah, that does give her an extra boost in her game.

  


The girls good-naturedly shake hands at the end of the game, The Angels looking a little worse for wear, but The Dolls didn’t let that dampen their mood.  As they return for a final team huddle, Trixie sees the wooden bleachers clearing out, but she looks away quickly when Pearl nudges her, not wanting to be caught looking for Katya.  

  


She catches Pearl’s eye who nods towards Coach Carson, who apparently has been talking for a bit.   _Whoops._

  


“-And that’s not all girls.  These next few weeks are going to be tough, but I need you all to be giving it your all, okay?  We won’t survive pre-playoffs if each and every one of your heads are in the game, am I clear?” The girls all nod and a few cheers are let out. ‘ _Pre playoffs?’_ Trixie mouths to Pearl, who nods, grinning.  

  


“Two weeks from now,” she whispers, leaning close.  “It’s pretty much an entire weekend tournament, meaning Friday to Sunday.  It’s all softball all day, and only the top 6 teams in that tourney get chosen for playoffs.”  The team is dispersing now, heading back to the dugout to gather their things, and Trixie is walking with Pearl, listening intently.  

  


“And we should be worried about that?”

  


“Nah,” Pearl shrugs, “Coach will always hype it up, but we stand a good chance every year.  And with you on our team, we’ll be unstoppable.” Trixie laughs and shakes her head, shoving her glove and multiple empty water bottles into her bag.  “Besides Trixie, do I ever worry about things?” She asks, giving a lazy smile.

  


“No, no, I suppose not.”  

  


Pearl nods decidedly and departs, giving a jovial goodbye to the team, who return the sentiment.  

  


“Yo, what’s Red doing here?”

  


At that, Trixie snaps to attention, whipping her head to where Farrah is looking curiously to the now-empty bleachers where Katya leans against the fence behind home plate.  Trixie watches Katya pull a cigarette from her coat and light it, lifting it to rest between her lips.

  


“Oh I don’t know, maybe she came to watch the game?” Their catcher, Bob asked sarcastically, shouldering her knapsack as well as her extra catching equipment bag.  Farrah rolls her eyes.

  


“Come on, aren’t you a little freaked out?  Literally the most intimidating player in our league, who’s on our _rival team,_ came to watch our game, and you aren’t even a little skeptical?”  Farrah asks, voice rising in question. Trixie focuses on zipping up her bag and plans on slipping out quietly, not partaking in this particular conversation.  Yes, Katya, _Red,_ an intimidating hardass…. The same hardass who let Trixie cry all over her car in the middle of the night.  So scary, very intimidating. Bob shrugs again which causes Farrah to huff and throw her hands up. “Come on!  Look at her smoke that dart and stare into the distance like she’s a fucking independent film star. I wish I was that effortlessly mysterious.”  She sighs, and Trixie can’t help but snort.

  


“Okay calm down Iago, I can smell the jealousy radiating off of you,” Bob quips as she heads out, Farrah following after.  Trixie smiles as she hears her protesting as they walk away.

  


“Don’t make references I won’t understand Bobbi!”

  


“Don’t call me Bobbi!”

  


“Then stop harassing me!”  

  


Their voices fade away, and Trixie dawdles, making sure she’s the last one in the dugout.  She’s hardly surprised when a voice interrupts her thoughts.

  


“What say you, Barbie?”  She asks Trixie, and Trixie grins, heading out of the sheltered area.

  


“Hm?”

  


“Think I could be an independent film star?”  She asks, grinning around her cigarette, and Trixie laughs, brushing by her.  Katya scrambles a little and follows her. “What? You saying I can’t? And no kiss?  Or do we not do that in public?” She asks, catching up with her.

  


Trixie stops walking and gestures to the cigarette hanging from her lips.

  


“Not with that in your mouth,” she winks, and continues walking.  Katya sputters behind her, unlocking her car door.

  


“What?  You don’t think it’s _sexy_?” She asks incredulously, and Trixie can’t help but laugh at the look on her face.  This is it. This is Katya, and this is happiness and this is Katya and happiness together, and that’s something that doesn’t even compare to what she had with Jared.  Trixie lets her eyes linger on Katya as she stomps out her dart, muttering about something, and Trixie realizes that there’s literally nothing she’d rather be doing than standing in this parking lot laughing at Katya.  And isn’t that terrifying?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to make a softball joke about waiting for the batter, but I struck out of ideas.
> 
> ;)
> 
> Okay so I guess this is back! Truth time, me and Grace have had the majority of this chapter written since last June, but we never finished it?? So I tied up the loose ends and brought it here for y'all! (We appreciate the comments and support so so much!!)
> 
> In other news, I haven't acually heard from Grace all summer, but I'm in love with this story, and miss it a lot, so you'll definitely be seeing some more chapters in the near future! Hopefully Grace will come back soon, but until then , tou guys are going to have to deal with just me, sorry! (And sorry for the fluff onslaught, but the plot will be building more, trust)
> 
> I'm excited to be writing this again and I hope y'all enjoy! HMU on tumblr at goodshipsdont-sink or on my personal, goodshipsdontsink :) And if any of you guys want to try and get in touch with Grace she's at jomarchisgay on tumblr <3


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